


it's hard to miss you when you are always on the tip of my tongue

by gothfob



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Pete, D/s undertones, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Roadtrip Fic, Smut, andy and joe made a bet, patrick is Bossy, patrick sings a lot, some good tunes, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothfob/pseuds/gothfob
Summary: “You still haven’t told me where our destination is.” Patrick breaks the silence suddenly. Pete tilts his head, considering.“I mean, I don’t really have one. I figured we’d go as many miles as possible before we have to turn around for the return trip so we can get back by Monday. The journey is the destination, my dear Patty.” Pete says. Like most things in life, he wings it.“You’re ridiculous.” Patrick sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Fine. But I demand a hotel for at least one of these nights because my neck is killing me from sleeping in this stupid car.”“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Stump.” Pete holds out a hand for a shake, all necessary for the joke. Patrick makes a face and turns the radio up. Pete giggles and puts both hands back on the wheel.





	it's hard to miss you when you are always on the tip of my tongue

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally here! i hope u enjoy it. i planned on writing this road trip fic as a treat because everyone was so sad/angry after the grammys loss. i started this in february and just finished it. oops. sorry it took so long. theres a playlist u can listen to and go along with this fic on spotify but for some reason it will not let me link it here so ill just link it in the tumblr post
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob

_I've Been Waiting - Lil Peep & ILoveMakonnen feat. Fall Out Boy_

 

“Rickster. Get in! We’re going roadtrippin.” Pete beckons Patrick into the passenger seat with a flick of his wrist. Patrick gets in the car, closing the door behind him and putting on his seatbelt.

 

“Since when? Pete, we go back on tour _next week_.” Patrick reminds him tetchily.

 

“Your point? We both need a break from the madness. I thought it’d be fun.” Pete pulls out of Patrick’s driveway and flicks on the radio. His phone is hooked up to the speakers, and embarrassingly enough, _No Scrubs_ starts blasting. It’s not that TLC is a guilty pleasure but, well. It kind of is. It’s not like Patrick can talk about those.

 

_No Scrubs - TLC_

 

Pete sheepishly turns the volume down and glances at Patrick.

 

“And I thought you were strictly about _Metallica_.” Patrick raises an eyebrow, looking far too amused for Pete’s comfort.

 

“You’re one to talk, Motown man.” Pete shoots back.

 

“That’s different. Motown is actually _good._ ” Patrick retorts.

 

“You keep telling yourself that.” Pete mumbles. Patrick shoves him in the shoulder, and then he starts to sing along to TLC. It makes Pete smile, the cadence of Patrick’s voice soothing and soulful. Patrick rarely ever sings when it’s not at a show. Usually Pete has to beg him to. It’s a good indicator that Patrick is happy.

 

Once the song is coming to a close, Pete perks up.

 

“It’s fucking catchy, isn’t it?” Pete teases. Patrick glares at him with no heat.

 

“I didn’t say this song wasn’t good, I was just surprised you listened to it.” Patrick concedes. “You still haven’t told me where you’re kidnapping me to.” He adds as an afterthought.

 

“Adult-napping.” Pete corrects.

 

“Whatever.” Patrick rolls his eyes. “What sparked this idea in your weird brain?” Patrick jokes.

 

“My weird genius brain, Tricky.” Pete deadpans. “But to answer your question, I wanted to spend time with you alone. _Reunited and it feels so good._ ” Pete sing-songs, horribly off key as always.

 

“Please stop.” Patrick winces. “But that’s a nice thought. Did you actually prepare for this ahead of time?” He asks. Pete nods enthusiastically, and gestures his thumb back towards the trunk.

 

“Snacks and drinks in the back. Contrary to popular belief, I can be a responsible adult.” Pete grins.

 

“I doubt that, somehow. Last time I was in a vehicle with you, you were shooting spitballs at the back of Joe’s head.” Patrick snorts.

 

“Hey! I resent that. Besides, that was years ago.” Pete replies, offended. There’s a beat of silence in the car, full of tension pulled taught like a bow string.

 

They’re avidly avoiding talking about the hiatus. You know, that dark period where they weren’t talking and hadn’t seen each other for months on end. Pete shudders just at the thought of it.

 

Patrick doesn’t say anything, and then the heaviness in the air is broken by a Queen song starting. _Don’t Stop Me Now_ , specifically.

 

_Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen_

 

Pete taps his fingers against the steering wheel and lets himself get lost in the song, conversation forgotten. He’s pretty sure he sees Patrick shimmying in his seat out of the corner of his eye.

 

Pete laughs his loud, braying laugh and turns it up. Patrick turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, beaming smile. Pete feels his heart flip over in his chest, and he puts his eyes back on the road.

 

xxx

 

They stop at a gas station, somewhere in Vegas according to Pete’s GPS. Pete throws Patrick the keys so he can get the food and drinks out of the trunk, and when he comes back out to fill the tank Patrick is sitting with the door open, his legs hanging outside of the car, crossed primly one over the other. He’s got a bag of Cheetos and his hands are covered in orange dust.

 

Patrick isn’t paying attention to him, so Pete lets himself drink in the image in full. Patrick’s black skinny jeans, combat boots, jean jacket over a button up shirt.

 

He’s got a fedora placed jauntily on top of his head and his glasses are sliding down his nose. His fringe is a little rumpled from taking a nap. Patrick is ridiculously pretty, even in the most mundane circumstances. Pete is hopelessly enamored.

 

Pete promptly snaps his eyes away when Patrick starts licking his fingers. He doesn’t want to pop a boner in public. Talk about embarrassing. He finishes pumping the gas and gets back in the car. Patrick finishes the bag and folds it up to stick it in the side of the door and puts his seatbelt back on.

 

Pete reaches into the backseat for a bag of chips and a bottle of Pepsi, and then they’re on their way again.

 

“You still haven’t told me where our destination is.” Patrick breaks the silence suddenly. Pete tilts his head, considering.

 

“I mean, I don’t really have one. I figured we’d go as many miles as possible before we have to turn around for the return trip so we can get back by Monday. The journey is the destination, my dear Patty.” Pete says. Like most things in life, he wings it.

 

“You’re ridiculous.” Patrick sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Fine. But I demand a hotel for at least one of these nights because my neck is killing me from sleeping in this stupid car.”

 

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Stump.” Pete holds out a hand for a shake, all necessary for the joke. Patrick makes a face and turns the radio up. Pete giggles and puts both hands back on the wheel.

 

_Life on Mars - David Bowie_

 

xxx

 

To Pete’s complete surprise (and horror) Patrick is the one who wants to start the conversation about the elephant in the room. Or car, rather. Semantics.

 

_When Doves Cry - Prince_

 

Patrick reaches over to turn the radio down, just the low hum of Prince accompanying the sound of Patrick’s voice when he says “Can you pull over? I need to tell you something.” It gives Pete instant anxiety, but he obliges as soon as he finds a good place to park.

 

It’s dark outside, just gone midnight. They’ve just crossed Utah state lines, and they should probably head back home in a couple of days. If they’re late for tour Patrick and their manager will kick his ass. Don’t even get him started on Joe and Andy.

 

“What’s up?” Pete asks, fidgeting with his hands. He’s pretty sure he knows where this conversation is headed. But he’s still really fucking scared.

 

“The hiatus was hard on both of us. And I wanted to say I’m sorry. For the way I acted. I missed you, so fucking desperately. I should’ve admitted it as soon as you were gone, but I had too much pride, you know?” Patrick blurts out, rubbing his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans.

 

“I’m sorry too. So fucking sorry. I fucked up so many things, Trick. But I’m not that guy anymore.” Pete says fiercely.

 

“I hope that’s not true. I mean, yes, the old you could be an asshole. But I’m sure the Pete I first met is still in there somewhere. He’s the one I fell in love with, despite my poor judgement.” Patrick says, reverently. Pete nearly flinches at the words, his mouth falling open in shock.

 

“You were in love with me?” Pete stutters out, his heart pounding double time. Patrick shakes his head, and Pete’s stomach drops with it.

 

“I _am_ in love with you. Never stopped loving you, even when we weren’t speaking.” Patrick clarifies. Pete lets out a sigh of relief, and then he can’t help it. He starts laughing a little hysterically. They’re both idiots, aren’t they? All this time has gone by and neither of them confessed until now.

 

“Oh. I didn’t know. But God, Patrick. I’ve been in love with you from the moment I met you. It was instantaneous. I know that sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I followed you around like a lovesick puppy for years. You couldn’t see it?” Pete asks, tilting his head in disbelief.

 

“If I could see it, I would’ve told you I loved you when I was sixteen. It would’ve been so easy to fall into you, into _us._ ” Patrick admits. Pete inhales sharply, his chest feeling warm and fuzzy.

 

“If you don’t stop me, I’m going to kiss you.” Pete says, breathless as he makes eye contact with Patrick. They both lean over the console and meet halfway.

 

_Still Into You - Paramore_

 

Patrick’s lips are soft, and he tastes like the cinnamon gum he was chewing earlier. It’s as perfect as a first kiss can be, a little clumsy with enthusiasm, but so gentle. Pete holds Patrick’s face in his hands, traces the seam of Patrick’s lips before he pulls back for air.

 

Patrick looks up at him through his lashes and smiles dreamily.

 

“I have a feeling we’re gonna need that hotel room tonight.” Patrick’s trying to sound coy, but his voice is husky and it’s a dead giveaway. An invitation. Definitely not a joke.

 

Pete swallows hard at the prospect, and nods vehemently. Patrick kisses him again, hard and slow. He leans back in his seat and pushes Pete back by shoving him in the chest.

 

“Start driving.” Patrick commands, a smirk on his face. Pete is instantly half-hard. Goddamn this little bastard.

 

The drive to the nearest hotel is torture, twenty minutes of Patrick making suggestive faces and noises at him while he sings. His hand even squeezes Pete’s thigh at one point.

 

By the time they’ve checked into the hotel and are headed up to their room, Pete feels light-headed from the lack of blood flow to his brain.

 

Patrick takes him by the hand and drags him into their room, and Pete barely has enough time to drop his bag of essentials before he is tackled backwards onto the bed.

 

“You know, I imagined this going much differently.” Pete says, breathless as he grins at Patrick above him.

 

“How’s that?” Patrick asks, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.

 

“I thought I was going to be the very eager, overly enthusiastic one. Considering all the times I’ve imagined tackling you onto various surfaces…” Pete trails off. Patrick laughs, hot air tickling Pete’s neck as he leans down until their noses are touching.

 

“I admire your weird, overactive imagination. But you know I’m the bossy one, right?” Patrick says, and then before Pete can answer, they’re kissing again. When Patrick pulls away to breathe, Pete nods.

 

“I probably should’ve realized you’re bossy in bed, too.” Pete groans at his own stupidity.

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Patrick snorts, as he starts pulling off Pete’s jacket and pulling his tank top over his head.

 

“Absolutely not. It’s the _best_ thing.” Pete giggles. Patrick goes to unbutton his fly and Pete sucks in a sharp breath before he manages to swat his hands away.

 

“Nuh uh. You worry about getting your clothes off, I’ll take care of my jeans.” Pete instructs. Patrick pouts his mouth in this obscene, manipulative sort of way, but he listens nonetheless.

 

“I thought I was in charge.” Patrick frets, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

 

“You are! Sorry, I just wanted us to be on even ground. I don’t like being the only one naked.” Pete explains, pushing down his zipper before forcing the denim down his legs.

 

“Fair enough.” Patrick replies, shrugging out of his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Pete kicks his boxers off where they’ve gotten caught on his ankles, and he looks up just in time to gape at all the glory that is Patrick’s body.

 

It’s even prettier in real life, better than he could’ve hoped for. Pete takes in the pale expanse of his neck, the creamy skin and the golden hair on his chest, before his eyes trail down his stomach to his cock. Pete nearly chokes.

 

He’s heard a lot of online theories that Patrick is packing, and it’s not that he hasn’t seen Patrick naked in some capacity before. He has, but it’s been stolen glances in the van and tour buses. He’s never seen Patrick like this, completely vulnerable, not to mention _hard_ just for him. He’s definitely a grower, from what Pete does remember.

 

Pete’s eyes trail down over Patrick’s thighs, which are heavenly if he does say so himself, and then his gaze falls down to the hotel carpet where Patrick’s feet are awkward and pigeon toed as ever. He’s so endeared by this man, he could die happy right now.

 

Patrick climbs on the bed beside him, much more shy and timid than he was a minute ago. Pete doesn’t like that. He wants Patrick to feel good. He wants him to be confident, to feel beautiful around Pete.  

 

_ The World Has It’s Shine (But I Would Drop It On A Dime) - Cobra Starship  _

 

Pete sets his hand on the back of Patrick’s neck and pulls him in for another gentle kiss. When he breaks it, he watches the way Patrick’s eyes flutter open, transfixed.

 

“You are so fucking gorgeous, I swear I must have dreamt you.” Pete says reverently, cradling Patrick’s jaw. Patrick’s eyes scrunch up as he laughs and his cheeks flush red.

 

“Do you say that line to all the boys?” Patrick teases. Pete shakes his head, his gaze unwavering.

 

“Only you. Because you’re the only one who has ever mattered.” With that, there isn’t much talking for a while. Pete is content with Patrick on top of him, inches of bare skin touching, their sweat mixing together.

 

Patrick is rubbing up against him, his dick hard and leaking. Patrick pulls away from his mouth to breathe for a moment.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Patrick asks, far too shy and earnest for such an obscene question. As if Pete would say no.

 

“Please.” Pete pleads. Patrick beams down at him, before getting off the bed to rummage through his bag until he comes back with a bottle of lube and a condom.

 

“Really confident you were getting laid on this trip, huh?” Pete says gruffly, eyebrows raised in amusement.

 

“I was hoping.” Patrick admits sheepishly, before scooting down between Pete’s legs and flicking open the lube to coat his fingers in it.

 

He prods gently at Pete’s hole with a slick finger, and Pete sucks in a sharp breath in anticipation. The first digit slides into the tight ring of muscle with minimal resistance.

 

It burns a little, but Pete grits his teeth through it and waits for Patrick to add another one. Once Patrick has two fingers inside him, he twists his wrist in search of Pete’s spot.

 

Pete keens with it, rocking his hips and trying to get more inside. Patrick ghosts his fingertips across Pete’s dick feather light, teasing in his ministrations. Pete feels like he’s about ready to bust.

 

Patrick adds a third finger, and Pete will never admit how much the edge of pain gets him going. Patrick curls his fingers against Pete’s walls and he’s making inhuman noises, babbling utter filth and nonsense under his breath.

 

Patrick removes his fingers so he can get the condom on his dick, and Pete whines at the loss, his hole clenching and begging to be filled. He’s greedy for it, anything and everything Patrick can give him. He wishes he could bottle the feeling Patrick evokes in him, he’s pretty sure he’s addicted to it.

 

Patrick sucks a hickey into his neck, and Pete thrills at the thought of looking like he belongs to Patrick, savors the edge of teeth sinking into his skin. Patrick grips his hips and slowly, inch by inch pushes his cock inside of him. Pete bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, tries to lift his hips and push Patrick all the way home.

 

When Patrick is fully seated, he lets out a grunt like it pains him to stay still.

 

“Christ, you’re tight. Are you okay?” Patrick whispers. Pete brushes his hair out of his eyes and nods.

 

“You can move.” Pete assures him, petting his face in encouragement.

 

Patrick pulls back, their hips pulling apart before they crash back together. Pete moans, trailing his hands down Patrick’s back and digging his nails in.

 

Patrick keeps a slow, steady pace, ruining Pete for anyone else. He’s still got a drummer’s rhythm, nailing Pete’s prostate on every thrust. They’re mostly breathing together now instead of kissing, but Pete’s too distracted to mind.

 

Pete arches his back, trying to change the angle of his hips so Patrick can sink deeper into him still, so they can become one person, with one heart and one soul between them. Pete thinks if anyone on this planet is his other half, it is most definitely Patrick Stump.

 

Pete stares into Patrick’s eyes as he starts to thrust faster, pounding into Pete so hard the headboard starts to thump against the wall. Pete throws his head back and whimpers, high in the back of his throat. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know Patrick is smirking, incredibly smug at his own ability to melt Pete into a puddle of arousal.

 

Pete howls when Patrick finally gets a hand around his dick, jerking him off in time to the harsh rhythm of his hips.

 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” Patrick asks, his voice dark and husky. Pete’s writhing in the sheets, completely enveloped by Patrick in him, on top of him, all around him. Pete’s entire body is tingling, like his blood is on fire, he’s so close, he can’t stop squirming.

 

“Yes.” Pete hisses through gritted teeth. He drags his nails down Patrick’s back in desperation for release. Patrick thrusts forward and stays buried deep, grinding his hips with no mercy against Pete’s prostate. He digs his thumb into the head of Pete’s dick and he’s a goner.

 

Pete trembles with the force of his orgasm, toes curling and eyes rolling back in his head as Patrick milks his dick. His cock twitches, jizz splattering against his stomach and Patrick’s hand at an alarming rate.

 

Pete shakes through the aftershocks for a moment, and when he opens his eyes Patrick is licking the come off his fingers. Pete’s dick gives a weak, defeated kick. Patrick’s eyes are dilated, more black than blue.

 

“Keep going. I want you to come while you’re inside me.” Pete would like to think he demands it more than begs. He’s already sensitive and overstimulated, but he has a feeling Patrick is mere seconds away from losing it.

 

Patrick bites his lip as he starts to thrust again, sliding easily in and out of Pete’s hole. He lets out a muted grunt or moan every once in a while, and Pete thinks it sounds more beautiful than any song he’s ever heard.

 

Pete takes in the sight of Patrick ravishing him, the way his eyebrows furrow with concentration but his eyes are glazed with pleasure. Pete clenches around him like a vice, and Patrick lets loose a little cry as his hips start to jackrabbit without his control, frantic and sloppy as he loses composure.

 

Patrick’s dick pistons in and out of him with a ferocity that’s almost animal, Patrick’s balls slapping against his ass as he freezes on top of him.

 

Patrick growls when he comes, his dick pulsing inside of Pete and making him feel warm and full. Pete watches the blush spread down Patrick’s neck to his chest, the sweat dripping down his temple, his red mouth open as he ruts into Pete like he can prolong his release just by doing so.

 

Eventually, Patrick pulls out of him gently and rolls to the other side of the bed to get rid of the condom. He turns back towards Pete and gives him a boyish, charming sort of smile that only he can make innocent after a fuck like that.

 

Pete laughs, and wraps himself around Patrick much like an octopus would. If it were up to Pete, they’d never leave this bed.

 

“I love you.” Pete whispers against Patrick’s chest.

 

“I love you too.” Patrick responds, immediate and effortless. Pete could get used to that.

 

xxx

 

Once they’ve showered and had breakfast the next morning, they get dressed and head back to the car. It’s a long drive back home, but Pete is looking forward to it.

 

“Do you think Joe and Andy will be surprised we finally got our shit together?” Pete asks idly while they’re on the highway.

 

“No. I’m pretty sure they placed bets on us.” Patrick snorts.

 

“Typical.” Pete rolls his eyes. He should’ve known.

 

“But I’m sure they’ll be happy for us, and their own fortune.” Patrick laughs.

 

“They better be.” Pete mumbles. Bets aside, Pete is pretty sure nothing can bring him down right now. He is on top of the fucking world, happier than he has ever been in his entire life. Patrick has that effect on him.

 

_ Summertime - My Chemical Romance  _

 

Patrick reaches across the gear shift to hold Pete’s hand. Pete grins, squeezing Patrick’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

 

“This is the perfect road trip song.” Pete says softly.

 

“You know what? You’re right. But don’t go telling Gerard. He’ll get a big head about it.” Patrick states.

 

“Nah,” Pete laughs. “It’s a sweet song. I’m sure he knows it’s good.”  

 

Patrick doesn’t respond, he just turns it up and starts to sing along. Pete is having trouble keeping his eyes on the road, glancing at Patrick out of the corner of his vision.

 

This must be what true love is like. Patrick is like the sun, burning bright and hot. Pete can’t look at him directly or he’ll go blind, his heart will explode with kittens and rainbows. Not that Pete thinks that would be so bad. He’d happily pull his heart out of his chest and let Patrick have it for safekeeping.

 

Patrick has seen the darkest, worst parts of him, and he stills chooses to stick by Pete’s side, to love him because of those things and not in spite of them. Pete doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he’s so grateful to have his Patrick back.

 

To have his band and his weird, crazy life. Pete feels happy to be alive in this moment, when the world is gentle and all that matters is the soulful sound of Patrick’s voice. He lets it carry them all the way home.


End file.
